


Last Resort

by Kayleegee



Series: The Bodyguard Series [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleegee/pseuds/Kayleegee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McKenna has come to a relative peace with keeping the Big Green Secret, but being an active participant? That’s a whole other issue. For one thing, she’s wearing the wrong shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Resort

McKenna’s trying to pay attention to Mike, she really is, but these shoes she’s wearing are awful. Absolutely awful. She doesn’t know how Felicity does it on a daily basis, wearing sky high heels with very little arch support. But, they make her legs look sky high, longer than they already are, and McKenna is not blind to the way Mike’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline when she opened her door. 

So yeah, these shoes better be worth it. 

This is the first date McKenna has had with Mike in the last month that actually involves a reservation before 9pm and actual real silverware. Mike is a detective with the SCPD. They’ve known each other for years, coming up together in the police academy, and they reconnected when McKenna took the job at Palmer Tech and needed inside information from the SCPD. Mike was the perfect choice. 

He’d agreed to help her out when he could, provided she’d pay him back in dinners, which she had with due diligence tried to, but Mike always snatched up the check before she could get to it. Before McKenna knew it, they were dating. 

Mike’s fun, light-hearted and not at all threatened by a woman who not only wears a gun but is a better shot. He’s also very understanding when it comes to McKenna’s odd hours since he keeps odd hours himself. So far, it’s been an easy, effortless relationship that totally fits what McKenna’s wanted. No fuss, no muss. 

It’s why McKenna is trying not to pay attention to her pinched toes and instead to Mike go on about his promotion to Major Crimes. He speaks with an enthusiasm McKenna understands. It was the same enthusiasm she’d felt when she had been with Major Crimes, before her injury. 

Last year, McKenna would have been incredibly jealous, but not now. When Mike asks about her work, McKenna genuinely smiles and answers truthfully. “It’s great.” 

Because it is. Working at Palmer Tech, with Felicity is great, and it has given McKenna a lot of new opportunities. They’re planning a trips to China and Hong Kong next year, and Felicity keeps making noises about Bali. 

The work is challenging, for the most part, and McKenna can honestly say that while there have been a few curveballs thrown at her she didn’t suspect, but that’s what makes the job fun. Except when people shoot at your boss. 

They move on from shop talk during dessert, Pecan and Salted Butterscotch Beignets with Bourbon Milk Ice. If there’s one thing McKenna loves, it’s pretentious dessert. They laugh over dessert as McKenna tells Mike the awkward conversation she had with her neighbor Mrs. Nowell yesterday morning as McKenna made what she felt was a very dignified walk of shame. 

Mike flags down the waiter when McKenna tells him it’s his turn to do he walk of shame tomorrow. McKenna wagers thirty, forty more minutes in these heels, tops. Totally worth it. 

Until...Mike’s phone rings. He winces, as does McKenna, but she gets it. 

“Melendez,” Mike answers, “Yeah...yeah...alright...yup...alright, 5th and Halstead? Got it.” He hangs up the phone, and opens his mouth to apologize. 

“It’s alright, I’ve been there,” McKenna smiles. 

Mike signs off on the check and stands up coming around the table to kiss McKenna. “You’re the best.” 

McKenna shrugs and giggles, “I know.” 

“Let me walk you to your car,” Mike says as McKenna takes his hand to stand, but she shakes her head.

“I’m gonna use the ladies room, I can get to my car myself,” McKenna replies before kissing Mike one more time. “Call me when you’re done.” 

They part, and McKenna makes a pit stop in the ladies room to freshen up. It’s relatively early, and she considers calling Kerry, to see what she’s up to. Maybe drinks at The Mill. 

Her thoughts are cut off by her phone ringing, and her stomach drops. It’s Felicity. Felicity is pretty good with never calling once McKenna’s off duty, keeping it restricted to occasional texts. When she calls, it’s always important. 

“Hello?” McKenna answers cautiously. 

“McKenna? Oh thank God! I was afraid you weren’t going to answer. The Pepper Oak can get super loud,” Felicity says by way of hello.

“How do you know where I am?” McKenna whispers as loudly and angrily as she can, glad this is a one woman restroom. She double checks the door is locked.

At least Felicity is apologetic. “I might have pinged your cell phone.” 

“You did what?” McKenna says louder now. 

“Hear me out! I need help!” Felicity answers back.

“Where are you? What’s wrong?” McKenna says immediately, ready to go. 

“No, no, I’m fine, I’m safe,” says Felicity. “But, uh, we have a mutual friend who needs some help.” 

McKenna’s eyes narrow. “Mutual friend?” 

McKenna and Felicity haven’t talked much about the Big Green Secret, mostly because everytime Felicity tries to bring it up McKenna plays absolutely dumb. It’s all about plausible deniability. 

Felicity is undeterred. “Listen, I know you don’t want to be a part of this and I wouldn’t be asking for help, but our mutual….acquaintance? Is that better? Our mutual acquaintance is in need of help and you are super close.”

“And his other associates? Where are they?” McKenna asks. 

“So, Black Canary and Spartan are helping some friends in Central City. Green Arrow and Speedy got into a spot of trouble, Speedy made it back but she’s been shot...not bad, but Green Arrow needs some backup,” Felicity spills out, sounding a bit frazzled.

“And you want me to help?” McKenna asks in disbelief. McKenna’s come to a relative peace with keeping the massive green secret, but being an active participant? “No! No! No!” McKenna musters with as much dignity as a 31 year old woman can whilst trying not to stomp her feet.  
“McKenna,” Felicity says in a low, quiet voice. “He’s pinned down right now, and he’s hurt.” 

McKenna closes her eyes a moment and takes a slow breath in and out. Big Picture, McKenna. “Okay, read me in, Felicity.” 

“You’re amazing. Really, amazing,” Felicity says. “Okay, Speedy and Green Arrow were taking down some Triad thugs along Halstead. They came under heavy gunfire and separated.”

“And you’re telling me the Green Arrow can’t...I don’t know...bow and arrow his way out?” 

Felicity sighs, “Well, considering Speedy has his bow…it’s mostly arrowing and I guess that’s not going well.” 

“Why does Speedy have his bow? You know what? Never mind,” McKenna shakes her head, and throws open the bathroom door, walking as nonchalantly as she can, but quickly out of the restaurant and to her car. “We’re going to have more problems than just Triad.” 

“Like what?” Felicity asks.

“Like the SCPD. Mike got a call to 5th and Halstead,” McKenna says, starting up her car and heading west. 

“Okay, well head to seventh and Halstead, that’s where Green Arrow is trapped. I have CCTV footage and I can talk you in,” Felicity replies. 

“Got it,” McKenna says. Felicity leads McKenna to an alleyway a block down from the building Green Arrow is trapped in. McKenna grabs her gun from the glove compartment, grabbing the extra clip and stuffing it in her dress. She gets out of the car, but when her feet hit the ground she looks down. Dammit. Her beautiful, but oh so painful Christian Louboutin pumps. These are so not going to work. 

McKenna lets out a frustrated groan and runs to the back of the trunk, throwing it open, and surveying the contents...there could be...yes! An old pair of converse sneakers she wore last week when she helped Gerry and his boyfriend move. She shoves her feet into the converse, her feet instantly thanking her. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” McKenna tells Felicity. 

“He’s in the building on the corner, third floor, eastside. You’re going to have to watch out for Triad and SCPD,” Felicity says. 

McKenna nods, “Got it. I’ll call you when I’ve got him.” 

Felicity balks. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You need to stay on the line with me.” 

“Nope. I’m gonna need two hands. Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” McKenna says. Sure, she’s wearing a minidress, has one gun and no backup, but yeah. She’s got this. McKenna hangs up on Felicity, and stuffs her phone into her bra, right next to the extra clip and her car keys. Clutch purse was the wrong way to go tonight. 

In the distance, McKenna can hear police sirens, but they don’t seem to be coming any closer. If they’re setting up a perimeter of any kind, they aren’t coming down 7th street. Yet. 

McKenna picks up her pace, finding the building Felicity has tracked the Green Arrow to, an abandoned office building. She clicks off the safety on her gun and cautiously approaches, sticking close to the shadows, ducking behind a trash can where she sees two Triad members at the doorway of the building, guns out. There’s also two town cars sitting out front. 

So, Oliver is trapped in what looks to be a building controlled by the Triad, probably where they keep their guns, drugs, and other illicit items. Unbelievable. What an absolute dingbat. Only a dingbat would get trapped in a Triad stronghold. 

McKenna takes another deep breath. Felicity says he’s hurt, so, maybe he’s not a dingbat, just injured and unable to get out. It’s possible McKenna is letting her lingering resentment of the Big Green Secret getting in the way of objective thinking. Big Picture, McKenna.

McKenna watches the two town cars drive around the corner, probably so they don’t draw attention from the cops, but the two Triad members stay at the main entrance. McKenna waits a few moments until ambulance sirens draw the members’ attention and she’s able to slip into the alleyway, hiding behind three large barrels. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the alleyway.  
She surveys her options. There’s a door, but surely it’s locked and McKenna doesn’t have a pick lock set and no bobby pins. There aren’t any windows on the ground floor, but there is a fire escape, and as luck would have it, it’s right above a well placed garbage container. God, she is not wearing the right bra for this. 

McKenna heaves herself up onto the top of the trash container, and clicks the safety back on her gun before putting it down the front of her dress. It’s getting crowded in there. She flexes her bad leg a few times before jumping up and grabbing the ladder. McKenna has to rely on her upper body strength as she climbs up the first few rungs before she can get her feet on to the first rung. It’s hard because her dress is pretty snug and doesn’t allow a lot of leeway for her legs. That dingbat better not be dead.

McKenna tries to be as silent as she can as she gets herself up to the third floor of the fire escape. She feels like every footstep on the metal rings loudly like a bell tolling. When she gets to the third floor, she peers through the window. The room is dark, and from the looks of things, unused. Good. 

With her gun, McKenna smashes a glass square of the window, cringing at the sound of the shattered glass. Hopefully anybody that hears it will assume it’s a broken beer bottle in the distance. She snakes her arm through, carefully and unlocks the window, and is able to open it, and climb inside.

McKenna approaches the door in the room, about to carefully open the door but stops when she hears shouts in Chinese, and waits a moment, trying to figure out what direction they’re going. They sound as though they are coming towards her. Crap.

She surveys the room she’s in, and settles on hiding behind two couches stacked on top of each other in the corner of the room, on the far side from the door. She crouches down as small as she can, hoping they just pass her room by. No such luck. 

The door creaks open, and from the thin line of vision she has, McKenna can see two men with guns and flashlights do a sweep of the room. She shrinks back, trying to make herself as small as possible. A beam of light sweeps over her and stops, and for a heart stopping moment, she thinks she’s sunk. 

But then the beam moves on, and in whispered Chinese, it seems the men decide to leave. McKenna breathes a sigh of relief and waits a moment before approaching the door and easing it open. It’s a large, open space, full of old cubicles. She sees the men making their way down the rest of the hallway, ducking into offices like the one McKenna’s in right now, thankfully in the opposite direction of where Oliver should be. 

McKenna waits until she sees them come out of one office and into another and then makes her move, darting across into the maze of cubicles. She makes her way to the east corner of the third floor, through the cubicles, awkwardly crouched down in a way that makes her bad leg ache. 

She gets to the other side of the floor without incident, and after a quick look for any unwanted friends, she quickly and quietly starts her own search for the Green Arrow. She opens the fifth door and is swiftly slammed up against the wall, an arrow pointed at her throat. McKenna lets out an undignified yelp.

Oliver’s eyes widen as he realizes who he nearly skewered. He immediately releases his grip on her, and takes two limping steps back. McKenna looks down and sees he’s not putting a whole lot of weight on his left leg. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Oliver grits out, fuming.

“Saving your ass,” McKenna says, taking a quick look out into the hallway for any sign of movement. These walls are super thin. She’s a bit surprised there’s not a McKenna sized hole in the wall the way Oliver pushed her up against it. 

“Felicity called you?” Oliver asks, surprised. He takes a moment to really look at McKenna, sweeping his eyes down her body, taking in the blown out hair, mini dress, and cocktail rings. “Were you on a date?” 

“No, Oliver, this is what I always wear when my boss calls me to save her vigilante boyfriend,” McKenna rolls her eyes. “How bad’s the leg?” 

Oliver shrugs her off. “It’s fine.” 

“Just a flesh wound?” McKenna asks. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Oliver says. “Is Thea okay?” 

McKenna nods, “Yeah, she apparently got hurt, but she’s okay.”

Oliver nods and retreats back a few more steps, until he’s at the opposite wall. There’s a small window providing a bit of light, and McKenna gets a better look at his leg, which is bleeding...a lot. 

“Okay, we need to get out of here,” McKenna says. “How much weight can you put on that leg?” 

“It’s fine,” Oliver says, trying to shake McKenna off.

McKenna glares at him. She doesn’t have time for this superhero bravado.

Oliver sighs, “It hurts...a lot, but I’ve handled worse.” 

“Of course you have,” McKenna says, as she moves to the office door and listens for Triad thugs. She can’t hear anybody approaching. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Oliver nods, pushing off the wall. McKenna moves to help him, but feels her car keys sliding down a bit. “Wait,” she says as she fishes her car keys and cell phone out of her bra. “Could you…” She gestures to Oliver’s suit. 

He smirks a bit as he takes the cell phone and keys and stuffs him in his pocket. “Do you need me to carry your lip gloss while I’m at it?” 

“Nah, there’s room next to my extra clip,” McKenna says, gesturing to her chest. She laughs a bit as Oliver’s gaze follows her hand, then immediately snaps back up when he realizes where she’s gesturing. He immediately looks so uncomfortable and guilty, it’s pretty funny. Oliver is totally “smoaked,” a term coined by Gerry whenever it’s made clear Felicity is boss. 

Oliver just nods, and says, “Let’s go!” 

“We just need to get back across the floor to the southwest off Halstead,” McKenna tells Oliver. She peeks her head out one more time, and seeing no one, gestures to Oliver, wrapping her arm around his torso on his left side, trying to take as much weight as she can, which isn’t a lot, because well, he’s solid. Really solid. Really, really, solid. 

Pushing dirty thoughts aside, McKenna leads a limping Oliver through the cubicles. There’s no crouching this time. Truthfully speaking, there’s only really two and a half good legs between them. McKenna’s a bit surprised they’re getting across the floor at a pretty good clip. The wonders of adrenaline. 

They’re almost to the other side of the maze of cubicles when a bullet whizzes past. Crap. They both hunker down behind one of the cubicles, landing in a bit of a heap. 

“Damnit, they’re blocking our exit,” McKenna says. She double checks her gun before standing up, squaring her shoulders and firing off a few shots back before hunching down again next to Oliver. 

“I count two,” Oliver says, “for now.” He’s not wrong, there’s probably more on the way. More shots come, closer this time, seemingly converging on them.

McKenna stands back up, returning fire. Yup, there’s two. She crouches a moment as they return fire, and as she stands back up, so does Oliver with a groan. He throws one of his arrow flechettes at one of the thugs, and hits him in the shoulder, and the man drops, howling in pain. 

McKenna’s excitement at one thug down is soured when four more show up, all with guns. McKenna fires off a few more rounds, hitting one of them in the chest. She crouches down and fishes her extra clip out and reloads while Oliver throws off a few more flechettes, but misses his targets, his aim going wide or falling short. He’s lost a lot of blood, the carpet underneath him soaking up blood. That doesn’t stop him from throwing himself at the Triad thug who comes running at them, down the hallway at them. 

McKenna is momentarily frozen, watching in wonder as Oliver throws his weight at the thug, who is about the size of McKenna, so tiny compared to Oliver. The thug is thrown off guard, clearly not prepared, dropping his gun to block Oliver’s blow, but Oliver is powerful, and he punches the man in the stomach. The man, gasping for death drops like a stone, and Oliver takes the opportunity to grab his gun. 

Oliver limps back to McKenna, and takes a deep, painful breath before standing up and shooting off a few rounds, while McKenna follows suit. McKenna’s sure she hits one, but Oliver, he hits the remaining two, and then with ease, fires off one last round, hitting the thug that comes running in through the emergency exit. 

McKenna turns her surprised face towards Oliver, who actually looks miffed. “I prefer a bow. Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use guns.”  
“Come on,” McKenna says faintly, trying not to feel jealous at Oliver’s amazing aim with a gun. They finish crossing back to the office with the window McKenna used to get into the building. It’s a tight fit, and McKenna’s pretty sure Oliver almost passes out from the pain, but they’re able to cram Oliver through the window. 

Oliver is able to hop down the steps on the fire escape, but the ladder proves to be difficult, and he ends up dropping into a heap on the trash container, but McKenna doesn’t say anything, because her landing is less than graceful as well. She rolls off the container, and helps Oliver. He’s losing steam, fast. She pushes him behind the trash container, out of sight.

“Wait here,” She instructs him, making sure he is well hidden. She runs the block to her car as fast as she can, as fast as her bad leg, which is aching something fierce, will let her. She gets back to her car, faintly thankful no hoodlums have stolen it, and quickly, with the headlights off makes her way back to the alleyway where Oliver is. He’s ready for her, coming from behind the trash container, limping heavily. 

McKenna throws the car in park, but keeps the engine running as she hurries out of the car and to Oliver to help him into the car. Opening the back door, McKenna silently curses the blood stains that will be a bitch to get out. Oliver crawls in the back, groaning in pain, and McKenna hears the thud of the gun he had hitting the floor of her car. God, she hopes she doesn’t forget that it’s there.

“Okay? Where to?” McKenna asks, very aware she can’t just take Oliver to the hospital. 

“North, campaign headquarters,” Oliver grits out.

“Really? Your super secret lair is the campaign headquarters?” McKenna says skeptically.

She hears Oliver sigh heavily. “We don’t….we call it the base. It’s the base.” 

There’s a ding alerting McKenna to the fact that the car’s bluetooth connecting to her phone. McKenna presses her bluetooth function on her steering wheel. “Call Felicity.” 

“No, no, you don’t have to…” Oliver trails off when Felicity immediately picks up.

“McKenna? Where are you?” Felicity demands loudly.

“We’re alright, I have him,” McKenna says, and she hears Felicity exhale a “Thank God,” before some muffled talking to someone in the background, probably Thea.

“Let me give you directions,” Felicity says, “How is he?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” McKenna says.

“Is he conscious?” Felicity asks, her voice rising.

“Yes!” Oliver yells before McKenna can answer. “I’m fine!” 

“Oliver, my love, your definition of fine is pretty off since, you know, falling off a cliff last year, so let me talk to McKenna,” Felicity says patiently.

McKenna spares a look in the rearview mirror. “You fell off a cliff?”

Oliver rolls his eyes, “It’s a long story.” 

“Always is,” McKenna mutters, before allowing Felicity to direct her to the back of the campaign headquarters building. They drive in silence to the headquarters, but when McKenna utters a “holy crap” when she pulls her car into the underground garage. Oliver huffs out a laugh. “Just wait,” he says. 

Oliver directs her where to park her car, between a big black van, and what looks to be a police cruiser. Sure enough, as she shuts down her engine, she sees Captain Lance trailing behind Felicity and Thea, who are pushing a stainless steel medical table. 

McKenna gets out of the car, and opens the back passenger door, allowing Oliver to start scooting out of the back. He leaves a dark trail of blood on the bench seat, and McKenna bites down a whimper. Oliver hops over to the table, and gets on it without complaint, taking a moment to take his hood and mask off before turning his attention to Thea, whose arm is in a sling.

“You okay?” he asks. 

Thea nods. “It was a through and through. Few stiches, I’m good. You?” 

“I’m fine,” Oliver says, letting his head fall back onto the table. 

“Could you just stop using that word?” Felicity says, one hand on the table the other on Oliver’s shoulder. 

They wheel Oliver over to the medical area in the lair..bunker, whatever this place is. McKenna tries not to gape at everything she sees- the weapons, the computers, the weird green lights. 

“What can I do?” Captain Lance asks as they lock the wheels of the med table. 

“Well, we need to get his pants off,” Felicity says and Oliver lifts his head from the med table looking at her, and she quickly amends, “I can do that myself.” Oliver just shakes his head and closes his eyes.

McKenna steps back and watches Felicity, Lance, and even an injured Thea at work, completely at awe at how calmly they handle the situation. The way Felicity asks Thea to grab a bag of Oliver’s reserve blood could be mistaken for Felicity asking Thea if she’s coming over for dinner. McKenna watches as Felicity, who thought she saw a cockroach last week and stood on the couch in her office for 10 minutes in a tizzy, cleans out Oliver’s wound, checking for bullet fragments before carefully stitching him up. Felicity doesn’t blink. Captain Lance stands silently, handing Felicity what she asks for, and Thea stands on the other side of Oliver, holding his hand. Oliver, for his part, is sleeping. 

When Felicity is done, Thea gives an approving nod. “Dig would be proud.” 

Felicity shrugs as she peels off her latex gloves. “It’s insane how much practice I get.” She takes a moment to rest her hand on Oliver’s forehead, closing her eyes, a few tears slipping out, finally. McKenna turns away from this deeply personal moment as Thea and Lance busy themselves in areas away from Felicity and Oliver. 

McKenna wanders around for a few minutes before taking a seat on some steps in front of a set of cases. Two are closed, but two are open, empty mannequins waiting for their suits back. This is an extremely impressive setup, and it’s not lost on McKenna that most people would be fangirling pretty hard right now. She’s not most people though, and she can’t help but wish she didn’t know about any of this.

“Hey,” Thea says softly, approaching McKenna, hand outreached. “Your phone’s going off.” 

“Thanks,” McKenna says, taking it from Thea.

“Thank you,” Thea says, “You saved Ollie’s life tonight. I wanted to go back out, but there was no way I could…”

“It’s nothing,” McKenna says, feeling sorry for Thea who looks guilty.

“All the same, thanks,” Thea says before walking over to one of the mannequins, her brother’s hood in hand. McKenna watches Thea carefully hang it up on one of the mannequins as best she can with one hand. Thea pulls the zipper up, and then moves her good hand to the left side of the chest, where Oliver’s heart usually sits underneath. Thea stands there a good minute in profile, her head down, and eyes closed. McKenna would never peg Thea as the praying type, but it seems tonight she is, after a close call.

McKenna’s phone chirps, and she sighs when she sees it’s a text from Mike. He’s finishing up some paperwork, and is wondering if she wants him to come over. She looks down at herself a moment, taking herself in. Her dress is beyond ruined, blood, sweat and grime covering it. Her arms and legs are scratched up, and she’s fairly sure there are bruises forming...everywhere. She has a sinking feeling her makeup has melted off and she can’t even hazard a guess as to what her hair looks like. 

McKenna looks at her phone for a long moment, as she weighs her options. She desperately wants to see Mike now. She wants him to hold her and tell her everything will be alright. But there’s no way she can face him tonight. She can’t explain to him what happened, can’t account for the state she’s in, and what’s more, McKenna is sure there’s no way it won’t come pouring out of her if she comes face to face with Mike tonight. 

Guilt wracking her, McKenna does something she never wanted to do. She texts Mike back, telling him that she’s not feeling well, must have been something she ate tonight. He sends a sad emoji back, asking her if she needs anything, and McKenna sighs, because she needs a lot right now, but she can’t ask it of him. She texts no and a promise to call him in the morning. 

McKenna stands up, a sudden need to go home and shower and possible burn this dress. She takes one last look over to the medical area, where Felicity is holding Oliver’s hand while the other holds her phone to her ear, where she’s talking in hushed whispers. 

Captain Lance is kind enough to open the secret underground garage door for her, and McKenna can’t help but side eye how at ease he is with this place. He’s a frequent flyer here, it seems. She shrugs off his offer to buy her a cup of coffee, and gets the hell out of Dodge. 

Four days later, McKenna is sitting in her office staring out her window when she hears a knock on her door. It’s Oliver, looking every bit of hesitant. McKenna waves him in and watches as he gingerly walks, trying not to limp but also trying not to put too much weight on his leg. And of course, there are no crutches in sight. 

The day after the incident, McKenna had woken to a few missed calls from Felicity, an e-mail to the CEO’s staff stating that Felicity would be working from home for a few days and news alerts about Oliver Queen’s cancelled campaign appearances due to and badly sprained ankle suffered while falling in the shower. McKenna rolls her eyes so hard at that they nearly pop out. 

Felicity returned to work yesterday, and McKenna has resumed her stance of playing dumb about the Big Green Secret, absolute in her reluctance to talk about it or the other night. So of course, Felicity’s brought out the big guns. Oliver. 

“Hey,” Oliver says simply, before sitting down in front of McKenna.

“Hey, how’s the ankle?” McKenna asks, with as much sarcasm as she can muster.

“It’s fine.” Oliver smirks a bit. “The gunshot wound is healing as well.” 

“Good,” McKenna returns before asking, “Did you need something?” 

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Oliver says. “We put you in a really awkward spot the other night, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

McKenna shrugs, “I’m fine, Oliver, really.” And she is, for the most part. Sure, her bad leg has been hurting non-stop, and she spent way too much time yesterday googling how to get blood stains out of leather car seats, and she’s been a bit evasive with Mike. 

“Really?” Oliver asks, not believing her.

“You don’t believe me?” McKenna asks. 

Oliver sighs. “Honestly? You act like you don’t know, you know...it… and it’s a bit of a shock for most…” 

“It was definitely a shock, Oliver,” McKenna says. “It was a shock to find out that my ex-boyfriend was the freaking vigilante while we were dating, while I was on the anti-vigilante task force, mind you. It was a shock to find out that you were there the night I was shot. It was a shock to find out that my current boss, your current girlfriend, has been working with you, along with your bodyguard, your sister, your ex-girlfriend, and your ex-girlfriend’s father, my former boss.” Oliver looks at her, surprised and McKenna can’t believe she just said all that. 

“I’m sorry I lied,” Oliver begins but McKenna stops him.

“You did it to protect me, I know.” McKenna looks at her phone. “I’m seeing a guy right now, Mike.”

“The cop,” Oliver supplies. “Felicity told me.”

McKenna nods. “I had to lie to him the other night after…”

“That’s the worst part of all of this,” Oliver says. “Lying to people you care about.” 

“I don’t want to lie to him,” McKenna replies. “You know me, I’ve always been open, honest.”

“It’s one of my favorite things about you,” Oliver says.

“Oliver, I don’t talk to you or Felicity about...it...because I cannot, I will not, live a life of secrets,” McKenna tells him. 

“Even when you could make a real difference for the city?” Oliver asks. McKenna’s look must match the confusion she feels because he continues, “McKenna, I’ve seen you in action. You’ve saved my life twice now, and Felicity’s. You’re amazing at what you do. The city needs more people like you.”

McKenna tries not to scoff because hell yeah, she’s a badass. She doesn’t need Oliver Queen or the Green Arrow telling her that...Wait...is he offering her a night job? 

“I’m perfectly happy doing what I’m doing now,” McKenna says slowly, “And I meant what I said. It’s your burden to protect the city. I’ll protect Felicity when she needs me too. But that’s it.” 

Oliver nods and begins to says something, but McKenna cuts him off.

“Think of me as a last resort,” McKenna says. “And I want plausible deniability. I can’t pull off orange.”

Oliver huffs out a laugh but says sincerely, “I can respect that.”

“Okay,” McKenna says.

“Okay,” Oliver parrots back before getting up. “I should go before Felicity makes it back to her office.”

“Left your crutches in there?” McKenna asks.

“Yup,” Oliver says wincing as he puts weight on his bad leg. “Would this be a last resort situation?”

McKenna laughs and opens the door for him, “Oh, honey. No one goes up against Felicity Smoak and lives to tell the tale.” 

“So true,” Oliver says and leaves with a wave, cautiously looking down the hallway. Absolute dingbat.

McKenna walks back around her desk, feeling better. She picks up her phone and types out a quick text. “Dinner tonight?”

She smiles when Mike responds just a moment later. “Russo’s?” 

“Perfect, see you then,” She texts back and smiles. Tonight, McKenna’s going to make sure those Christian Louboutins are most definitely worth the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @kayleegee-writes


End file.
